


vengeance is the only true pleasure in life

by intoxicated_by_our_lies



Series: Darkfics/The Fucked Up Reality In My Head [6]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Attempted Murder, Butt Plugs, Cheating, Desperation, Forced Piercings, Graphic Description, Insanity, Kidnapping, Last Resorts, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Instability, Piercings, Promiscuity, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Revenge, Sadism, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Torture, Stigmatophilia, Tattoos, Toys, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicated_by_our_lies/pseuds/intoxicated_by_our_lies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nice try, kid," the vigilante flicked his tongue at him, almost growling. "Gotta say.. if you were anyone else, anywhere but here, I'd say you have balls.. but you don't. Not enough. Say goodnight, kiddo."</p><p>If only he had known at the time what exactly his mistake would spark. A story in which insanity is not to be fucked with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. stigmatophilia

**Author's Note:**

> what is this... we've been working on this so long gdi idk why it was never posted.

He was exhausted from it all. Honestly, the unending strain, the pressure of having to continue like this, day after day, in a fashion akin to conformity… it was all so droll. So… boring. And Anakin acknowledges that _ yeah, maybe it’s because I don’t have any friends _ , _ because I think people are stupid, and I don’t understand them but…  _ it’s still frustrating. It’s all so frustrating in the most stereotypical way and there doesn’t seem to be a means of avoiding it at all.

 

So it’s no surprise that the framer’s found himself walking out of the local tattoo joint at sometime between eight and midnight, his eyes too bloodshot to focus well, head hazy and all but spinning as he tried to focus on the surroundings. It’d come to a point where the lights started to blend together, the buildings, even the faces of the townspeople that he couldn’t place on a normal day, let alone when his head was… spinning.

 

But the pride of a new tat- a lovely, tribal pattern marring the patch of skin on the side of his upper right thigh- is more than enough to shove away the momentary stress of it all. He just isn’t accustomed yet… in awhile, right? Not too much longer. Everything was just… just so goddamn  _ hazy,  _ like static in front of his vision, and all the man really managed to think was a  _ am I drugged?  _ before he was being shoved up against a brick wall, his back hitting concrete hard as he attempted to stare at the figure pinning him.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” He barely chokes out, half horrified and so near to screaming, before realizing it may not be the best of phrases. His hand tries to reach up, push against the other’s chest with a soft, “Yeah. Whatever, man… fuck. Okay, you know what? I’m gonna leave now. Thanks.”

 

“Nah, mafiaman,” a rough voice snickers, too deep for anyone not to be able to belong to anyone but Inigo. A toothy smile broke out on his face, forcing the young boy to stare back up at him. He looked so cute like this, trying to look tough and unaffected by this, but is betrayed by the fear lurking in his light coloured eyes. Inigo almost wished he had a camera. “You're gonna play a game with me, little buddy.”

 

Forcing the boy down to his knees, face pointing away from him, he roughly yanked the man’s straight red hair back so that his neck was completely exposed and forced to stare up at him. Anakin- he was sure that his name was this.. it had to be- looked so young like this, childish features appearing so prominently. He'd be attractive if he wasn't a traitorous piece of shit. “Mmhm, what lovely tats you got, Anakin.. that's your name isn't it? Pretty unique name- easy for the medium and the morgue worker to remember when they have to lower you six feet under.”

 

It's a rough, pained curse that forces him to remember where he was. They weren't somewhere private yet.. people could be watching. Random townie and the likes could easily confused this situation for something other than an execution for a murderer- and Inigo couldn't have that.

 

“Up on your feet, Anakin.. let's go somewhere nicer.. you like the secluded areas, yeah? Spend a lot of time by yourself at least.. what? Too special to spend your early adult years with your other piece of shit mafia chums?” He chuckled, watching the boy wiggle in distress, trying to figure out how to escape. It was a useless try.. he had a gun hidden under his coat that he was willing to remove the second that he tried to run or overpower him. He refused to let anyone run from him. “....no matter I guess. They'll be joining you in hell shortly. Should enjoy the silence while you can, Ana. Eternity is a mighty long time.”

 

“Please.” It’s not a ‘please’ that’s made in a begging manner, more the sort the framer thinks someone would roll their eyes to. “I’d rather you not lump me in the same category as them, thanks. It might make you think worse of me…” he trailed off, feeling a hand gripping his side, gun pressing against the small of his back enough to cause a rather intense discomfort as he shifted slightly. A cold shiver ran down his spine, hands sweaty as he slid them into the pockets of his pants.

 

“That being said though…” he starts, when he feels the man (vigilante? Had to be) pushing him along, until they can make their way over to a rather discarded alley, the other peering in just for precautions, he presumed. Anakin tilted his head to the side, shrugging. “Congratulations. I mean, you just caught the most useless mafia member. You seem to know already that they won’t miss me. Do me a favor and just put the bullet in my head, kay?”

 

He’s being serious. Anakin doesn’t know if the man’s taken his words into consideration at all, if he’s even listening, with the way he suddenly drags him off the street and flips him around so he can stare him in the face. The twenty-nine year old lets his eyes widen, slightly, before attempting to conceal the look with a muted frown, turning his head away. “You’ve got a couple nice piercings yourself. Not as good as mine though… let those be my last words. Just do it. It’s not like I can really do anything…”

 

“Mmhm, well.. no. You said about five more sentences afterwards so. Tough break, kid. ‘It's not like I can really do anything’ is your last words. Sucks. I'll tell them to add ‘Just do it’ too, if it makes you feel better.” It's a weird, out of character joke, something the thirty something year old man has always struggle to do well with. Oh well.. the unfortunate audience that gets to hear his attempts at being funny typically die soon after so who really gives a shit? They're all filthy murderers anyhow.

 

“Take off your clothes,” he said simply, rolling his eyes at the disbelief leaking from the boy’s eyes. They always looked cute when they were like this.. he couldn't lie. “I don't like forcing our poor sheriff or doctor to have to take it off during the autopsy. So, you get to. ‘sides, you're not even worth the linen you're wearing, be happy I'm being nice and letting you strip yourself.”

 

He wasn’t even sure he had  _ words  _ for that. It all seemed so… unreal, somehow. Aside from the rather fierce aura of hatred that was practically emanating from the vigilante’s body, eyes appraising as he taps fingers against his arm, waiting. There’s tingling under his skin, his eyes wide as he lets fingers tangle with the hem of his shirt, frantically wanting to hyperventilate, sink a knife into the man’s body… “Uh-huh. Yeah.” Anakin states simply, without a shred of inflection, turning around to shrug off the unbuttoned overshirt, before pulling the thin black wifebeater over his head and letting his fingers fall to the button on his jeans. “Not so sure that’s your reason though. Maybe I’m overthinking things… doesn’t matter, really. It’s like you said. I’m dead in a few minutes, so regardless- it doesn’t matter.”

 

Letting his thin, pale hands undo his jeans shakily, he let them slide down his inked thighs until he could step back, pull away from the pile of clothes on the ground, and turn to face the man. Inigo? Was that his name? He thinks he’s heard it before- at some point. Isn’t sure who from, but the framer had never been one for idle gossip. “Alright.” He breathes, simply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have fun.”

 

Inigo turned around briefly, tossing the clothes inside a dumpster and raise an eye at the near naked man. He was doing so well too.. he just forgot one important garment. They all usually do.. no one ever seems to want to completely do as he tells that. Selfish bitches wanting to die  _ with dignity. _ “Panties.”

 

He doesn’t know why that’s what finally makes his hands shake, trying to control his breathing. Because, yeah, maybe he should’ve figured that out in the first place, but-  _ fuck, he didn’t want to be completely exposed to a fucking townie again.  _ Let alone when he was about to get a bullet in his brain. Still, Anakin sighs, wrapping fingers under the waistband of his underwear and pulling them off, tossing them onto the ground as well. “Yeah. Fine.” He sighs, watching the older man do away with everything he was previously wearing, before standing back and pulling himself up to his full height. “You gonna shoot me now?”

 

“Soon… patience, my dear murderer,” he tsked, tongue clicking off of the roof of his mouth. “You almost sound like you want to die. Don't you want to have some last minute entertainment before I force this lovely steel into your mouth and you're reunited with.. god, space, other ghosts, I don't fucking know? But if you insist.. I can make this go a lot faster.”

 

There's a flinch. Just slightly, gone the second it was there, but.. he saw it. He actually saw Anakin flinch.. and it was beautiful.

 

“You just got a new tattoo, huh?” he asked, an uneasy smile going on his face. “Why don't you show me? Story time with Anakin!”

 

He stood up, fumbling with the glock. “Go ahead, man. Criss cross style, sit on your ass. Show me all your pretty little ink stained patches of skin. I'll show you my piercings if you behave like a good little boy.”

 

“Wow. Sounds peachy.” Anakin stated blankly, staring at the man with an almost vacant expression. He was… really fucking annoying. Like,  _ really.  _ Loudmouthed, confident, almost egocentric in the aura he was giving off. Kind of like Jaina and Vita, who were in all likelihood, his two least favorite people in the world. Inigo could give them a run for their money. Anakin raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue, cut off when he just gestured for him to sit down.

 

“I’d rather be shot, thanks,” he said, looking away from the older man with a half-scowl plastered to his face, Shutting his eyes. “Unless you’re into some weird, kinky shit… but I’d rather you used my corpse for that.”

 

Inigo’s face fell, scowling at the smaller man. Well, wasn't he just a peach? He considered putting a bullet in him now.. a warning one at least. The shit needed to learn to have some goddamn respect. “That's revolting,” he muttered, digging into his pocket to reveal a small pocket knife. He held it out to the young boy, watching the man stare back at him wearily. Rolling his eyes, he dropping it into the man’s lap.

 

“If you're not gonna play fairly, Anakin.. sacrifices must be made. You ever given yourself a piercing before? It's not too bad, is it? Nah. You got quite a set of them already.. ears, eyebrows.. Missin’ lip, navel, cock, and uvula. Which one do you want? I'd gladly help you, Anakin. Would be a shame not to do whatever you want just moments before you're forced to eat a bullet.”

 

“So that’s it,” Anakin aimed a glare at the man, gripping the handle of the pocket knife experimentally until he could hold the blade closer to his face, look at the reflection of moonlight glinting off the cold metal. Honestly, he’d done his ears like that… but anywhere else? Fuck, couldn’t it kill him? He wasn’t a particularly big fan of pain, despite what everyone seemed to think.

 

Raising his head to stare at Inigo, he barely managed to force out a “Fuck… fuckin’ hell, man.” The framer sucked in a breath, glancing back down to the pocket knife, dragging his finger over the tip of it. He almost-  _ almost _ \- wanted to cry. Not that he would, of course- this was basically a death sentence. “You do it,” he said finally. “I’ll let you choose- wherever you want. Just… fuck, I don’t know.”

 

Inigo chuckled underneath his breath. He really didn't think that the boy would go through with it- no one ever seems to. Typically they try and use the knife on him the second he gave them it, oh well. There was a first time for everything he guessed. At least he'd have some fun watching the boy give himself his own piercing. “Mmhm.. nipple? Those are always sexy as fuck. What do you say, Skywalker? Up for being a good boy and doing this?”

 

The framer was close to rolling his eyes at the other's antics. Was this normal behavior for townies? It was unsettling. Nonetheless, his fingers danced over the blade of the knife, pulling it up to his chest with a half-quirk of his lips. He really wasn't sure what possessed him to do it- excitement? Fear of dying? No- he wasn't sure. Didn't have a clue, really.

 

“Wow. Like I haven't gotten those jokes before,” Anakin finally commented, angling the tip of the blade under his nipple. “Needle would've been better. Still, whatever gets your rocks off, I guess. You're lucky I'm open to it.”

 

Inigo reached an arm out, scratching the top of the boy’s head affectionately. It was so cute that the boy was so open to just sitting in front of him ass naked, half hard, with a dull pocketknife pressing downwards on a pink nipple. Almost humorous, really. Anakin was considered to be one of the weaker mafia members, a baby in regards to the large amount of thirty and forty year olds running around. It'd be a shame to have to kill him. No matter, there were a shit ton of other younger residents.

 

“What a lovely tattoo, Anakin,” he said simply, flicking his pierced tongue at him without even acknowledging the quiet yelp the boy gave. He bent down, hand moving down to run against the tribal tattoo. “Is it new?”

 

It felt… wrong. Having the vigilante so close, hand running over his exposed thigh, tracing the pattern of the tattoo almost teasingly. Anakin shouldn't have shivered- it gave away too much, how the other's touch affected him, made him want to curse. The knife nicked the side of his nipple, a small amount of blood rolling over his chest as he shut his eyes. And then there was a hand on his back and he was trembling, arching away from the touch instinctively, eyes going wide. “What are you…? Fuck- don't… don't touch me like that. It's... “

 

Inigo smacked the side of his face, a scowl appearing quickly as he hissed out a nasty, “Don't you ever dare tell me what the fuck to do, you worthless piece of shit. You're not in any position to be giving anyone orders.”

 

And with that, he grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair and pulled back, ignoring the pained groan the man gave, kicking the front of his stomach hard until Anakin arched forward, curses escaping his thin lips. He… he didn't  _ like _ being told what to do. Didn't like people in positions even attempting to tell him what to do.. it just didn't feel right, felt unnatural. No one was allowed to. Especially not some ginger haired bitch like this.

 

“You..  _ ever _ tell me what to do.. speak to me like that.. and I'll blow your fucking knee caps open and leave you to die. Understand?” He smiled widely.

 

Anakin barely had the strength to give a light nod, putting his weight on his hands as he tried to pull himself up from the ground. It fucking burned- the pain in his side, the smack to his cheek… fuck. He didn't want this- to be completely at the mercy of a man he neither knew nor understood.

 

“Forgive me… I wasn't thinking.” Anakin coughed out, looking up at Inigo, not meeting eyes with him. As far as he could tell, the man had an ego. Aggression. It was… different than most people he'd been near lately. Did he want…?

 

“Please… continue. Do what you want. I can't- I can't deny you now. Fuck- just…”

 

In a whimsical voice, Inigo mused, “Have you ever wondered what would happen when you die, Anakin? How'd you feel.. how others would feel about your gruesome and long death..? I think about it a lot, if I have to be honest with you, buddy. Doubt there's anyone in the whole wide world that thinks about it more than lil ol’ me. Got no family, no real friends.. guess no one would come to your funeral to shed some tears.”

 

He laughed. Loudly. It seemed almost sadistic to say it, honestly.. but he'd prefer to be honest the most he could in life. The man was going to die, why sugar-coat it? “Me? Well, I'm married, have two kids, and a shit ton of chums. I'll die with kids to carry on my legacy. You, on the other hand.. hope you're not forgotten too quickly.”

 

He raised the gun to his forehead, amused by the slight flinch the man gives him. Shame he had to die- he was a good listener. Not too many left. “Anythin’ you wanna say? Wished you got laid more, had a better hand at life?”

 

He almost laughed- there was a crack in his voice, a barely audible chuckle escaping the framer’s pursed lips, looking up to the older man with a fixed frown, expression firm and callous. Should he say anything? Anakin never knew what to say… what to say other than made up emotions, or how to figure out another's personality. 

 

He finally let a smile pass over his face. “Believe it or not, I never wanted to join the mafia. But nobody else would've taken me, Inigo. Don't you see?” he barely acknowledged it. It wasn't entirely true- but maybe if he could play the pity card… “You seem to know a lot about me. You should know I don't have friends, don't talk to people… don't have sex. Does any of it matter now? I didn't really care before… didn't expect to die so soon. But… I suppose that's what happens, isn't it? To people who are unwanted.”

 

The younger man paused, licking his lips without much of another look at the man’s face. Giving a muted sigh, he barely reached up to the vigilante’s leg, letting fingers tangle in the fabric. “There are other things you could do… before you kill me. Other uses I have…”

 

Inigo raised a brow, amused at the almost desperate look on how face. Kid didn't want to die.. wanted to prolong his life. He really couldn't blame him.. really didn’t want to blame him, but… still. The kid should've realized he was going to die. Acting like this was just plain annoying. He had things to do before the sun came up.. Elodie and Rosie were going to be up and realize what their precious father was doing.

 

“Yeah? And what's that kid?”

 

Before he could say anything, Anakin’s hands were wrapped firmly on his pants buckle, snapping it apart so he could press a light kiss against the soft bulge trapped behind white cotton. 

 

Oh.

 

That's what he wanted.

 

“And how do I know you won't just bite it off so you can escape, kid?”

 

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would've tried already.” Anakin barely acknowledged, tilting his head to the side, hands gripping the man's flat hips, just enough to pinch but not hurt. He gave a short glance to Inigo's face, flicking his pierced tongue out as an almost taunt. “I mean, if you're worried, you could just turn me over, fuck me yourself… no teeth. You know… whatever floats your boat, man.”

 

Inigo smiled, widely. “I have something better… something more arousing for the both of us.” 

 

He pushed the man back down on his back. The ginger looked scared for a moment, staring up at him wide eyed. It looked attractive on the man.. he almost wished that he had more time to stare back at him. Oh well. “Well? Start fucking yourself, sweetheart. A nice jack off session before your death.”

 

So he was still going to shoot him. Anakin’s breath was shaky, unable to keep himself from quivering at the feeling of his back hitting the ground. Inigo’s words… they were just… he  _ didn't _ . He  _ couldn't _ do that… not like this.

 

The framer’s hands gripped his shirt, attempting feebly to push him away the best he could. His movements were quickly stopped as a fist caught him in the jaw, a hand forcing his head back. He wasn't even sure what was going on, but… 

 

Slowly, the younger man let his hand slide between his thighs, glancing up to Inigo for some sort of signal. “What… what do you want me to do?”

 

“Fuck yourself.” He said, simply. A playful smirk appeared on his face, caressing his soft jawline. Anakin still looked so scared.. like a child trying not to be punished. It was too amusing for him not to let out a sharp snort. “You're a big boy, aren't you? Surely you've done this.. would it help if I got you something like a hose?”

 

“How the fuck do you know about that?” the framer hissed, eyes suddenly narrowed into a piercing glare, hand pressed against the man's shoulder as an attempt to keep space between them. “What, have you been stalking me or something? Wow. I wonder if that's a new low.” Glancing away, Anakin gave a tiny glance to the discarded knife, head tilted to the side completely as he tried to focus on anything but the vigilante.

 

“Fine. You win. Do you want me to jerk off or finger myself?”

 

“Mmhmm.. all you have to do is type your name into the Internet and it's the first thing that comes up for you, sweetheart. Not too hard to do when I'm trying to find out about scum fuck mafia members like you.”

 

He leaned forward against bopping his nose with his fingers. This was certainty turning out to be entertaining.. he had even tried to escape once yet. A new record for him. “Finger, jerk, suck yourself.. I don't really give a shit, kid. Whatever you want. Your funeral. Though..” he chuckled. “I'd prefer it if your mouth wasn't covered.”

 

Anakin furrowed his brow, slightly confused. Did he expect him to… make a lot of noise? He probably wanted it.  _ Probably gets off to it,  _ he thought to himself, refusing to look at the man. No- this wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this… he shouldn't… fuck, the mafia was going to be so annoyed.

 

He shut his eyes for the briefest of moments, fingers sliding around the tip of his length, giving an experimental tug before letting his eyes flit up to Inigo. He was almost smirking, seemed too amused with the whole thing… it was almost laughable. He hadn't expected the beloved vigilante to be such a deviant.

 

Skirting his hand lower, Anakin pushed a finger against his entrance, eyes focused on Inigo to gage his reaction. Sliding it in rather abruptly, he couldn't keep his hips from bucking up, almost letting a moan slip loose, if only because he wanted to see the other's reaction.  _ Should I indulge him?  _ He had to question, letting another finger push in to settle beside the first.

 

“What are you thinking?” the framer asked, blankly, devoid of feeling. “Tell me. Do you like my supposed ’weakness’? So desperate to live that I'd actually want to fuck some sorry filth like you? It's perfect, isn't it? Being m-manipulative. It's why the mafia wanted… wanted me.”

 

Inigo’s face fell briefly. Did he really think that this was sexy..? The be honest.. it was anything but it really.. sure, he could easily be turned on by his obvious trying, but it sounded like a fourteen year old girl trying to turn on her much older drunk boyfriend.. someone needed to teac- no, on second thought.. he'll be dead in the next few minutes, might as well go along with it.

 

“Mmhm.. very sexy, lovely yes.. look at me, Anakin.. Yes, look at me,” he forced the boy to look up at him. “Didn't you say no one wanted you? Did you lie to me, Anakin..? I think you did..”

 

He didn't ignore the confused squeak the boy gives him, tapping the man’s cheek. This was going to be fun. “Apologize. I want to hear the sincerity in your voice.”

 

He couldn't do it. For what it was worth, Anakin barely knew how to apologize- it always seemed like empty words. And they were clearly wasted on Inigo- there was nothing to say to him. He was… disgusting, frankly. Maybe it was wrong of him to think, but there was really no way around it. He didn't have anything to say to him.

 

“Nah, man.” the framer said, simply, barely acknowledging the look of annoyance on his face. Pressing himself forward until his hips were against the other man’s, breath hitting his face, he pressed his mouth to his ear. “Not unless you beg me to apologize. I'm not sorry. Never am.”

 

Inigo glared harshly at him again, his knee going up until it connected with the boy’s dick and balls. There was a loud groan from Anakin at this, forced into his knees with tears staining down his face. “Listen here, sweetheart- already said I didn't take orders. Not from you. Not from nobody. So, what makes you think that it'll work this time, huh?”

 

His gun is repositioned so it was pointed squarely at his mouth, hand shaking almost. He needed to learn respect.. “Open your mouth, kid. Suck on what's going to end you.. take it inside your filthy little whore mouth.”

 

"Mmhm," the younger man practically purred, fingers tangling in the vigilante's hair, letting his lips part to take in the cold metal pressed against them, feeling the harshness of the object as it slipped into his mouth. Curling a leg around the back of Inigo's thighs in an attempt to bring him closer, he offered the man a muted laugh around the barrel.  _ Shoot me. Shoot me. Go on _ .

 

Inigo scowled, did this piece of shit think he had any real power here? No. He was just a useless soon-to-be corpse.. him trying to fuck with him would no way in hell ever fuck him up. 

 

"Nice try, kid," the vigilante flicked his tongue at him, almost growling. "Gotta say.. if you were anyone else, anywhere but here, I'd say you have balls.. but you don't. Not enough. Say goodnight kiddo."

 

Before he could pull the trigger back, a searing pain began crawling up his thighs. He cursed, loudly, dropping the gun and turning away to nurse the wound. "Motherfucker-"

 

"Clearly you missed something. Got ahead of yourself, man... shame, too. I liked the sound of your voice... the mindless rambling was almost endearing."

 

Anakin tried to catch his breath, throat aching and closing up almost instantly as he struggled to pull himself up from the ground. He spared a glance to Inigo, watching the vigilante try to nurse his wound, keep the bleeding from spreading. "Oh, yeah. Sorry for stabbing you. Just for the record."

 

Inigo struggled to grab the gun again, barely able to look up and start firing in random directions in hopes that he'd be able to hit something. It seemed useless, he doubted he managed to hit anything.. fuck, he worried about it ricocheting and hitting him. He didn’t want to end up getting killed in the name of justice..

 

His head felt heavy, spots obscuring his vision as he sunk back against the wall. Time to pass slowly, his breath slowly down profusely as blood poured from the wound and in between his fingers.. the man wondered if it was a lost cause or not to keep holding on to it. It didn't hurt as much as it did, though Inigo suspected it's probably endorphin or some shit like that. Didn't really know- he typically slept through those classes. 

 

He briefly closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down enough to hear the faint sound of someone talking in the distance- their voice quiet but filled with worry. It made all the bells go off in his head, weakly screeching out for help. Fuck.. was there a chance that he was talking to Anakin? No, no, no.. fuck. He couldn't. He needed to fucking  _ die _ . He couldn't live.

 

_ Anakin couldn't. _

* * *

 

It didn't seem like he was aware of anything, slumped against a wall and clutching his side. It was enough that they couldn't really do much more than force him to lie on his back, hand on his chest, telling him to breathe. His voice was shallow, cracking as he struggled to keep talking. It was too much- too much for them to take in, all at once, as they tried to lift the larger man into their arms, struggling to carry him. 

 

"Shh, Inigo. I'm going to get you back to the clinic- okay? Don't- don't speak. Save your energy. Just... please. Focus on breathing, okay?" Their voice was soft, so much they weren't sure if he could hear them.

 

It takes awhile for them to stumble up to the door of the clinic, opening it quickly and practically forcing the older man down onto a thin cot, hand on his forehead. "Slight fever. I need to get the bullet out. Don't move."

* * *

 

His vision was completely a bright white, slowly coming to normal when he finally noticed a lone figure standing over his body, speaking to himself. At least.. he thought it was a man. Looked sorta feminine, but the shoulders made him come to the conclusion that he was a man. His body tingled, though felt overall numb and pleasant. He wondered if he was drugged.. felt like it, really.

 

"Where.. fuck- my head," he tried to sit up, confused at the sight of bright red staining a large bandage over his thigh. Fuck-  _ the knife. Anakin _ . "Wh-where the fuck is he? T-the murderer?"

 

“What murderer? Did you run into a serial killer?” The doctor asked softly, before turning around only to see the vigilante trying to bring himself to his feet. Quickly pressing a hand to his chest, they steadied themselves so they could look down at him, watch the anger flicker in and out of his eyes as he tried to push them away. “Sit down. Do you want the swelling to get worse? Don’t make me give you more anesthetic. It was hard enough to stitch up while you were asleep.”

 

They looked toward the window, where sunlight was barely visible behind the white curtains, barely noticeable as it rose above the town. It had been another long night for them, Reza thought. Too long, really- would’ve been considerably longer if not for the visit of a friend… but that was a memory to be saved for another time. Right now they had a vigilante to focus on.

 

The irate man seemed to have listened to them, though- lying on his back, not moving, leg rigid as he blinked. “Now. Can you tell me who did this to you?” The doctor asked, sitting gingerly in the chair beside the bed, grabbing for a small cup of water from the table. “Maybe this will help. I gave you some percocet for the swelling yesterday- knocked you out for a bit, but you looked like you could use the rest. It’s Inigo, right?” 

 

"Yeah.. fuck-" he nodded, stretching his body out more. Hearing him speak made his head even hurt worse. Inigo felt like shit.. too much so for the thirty six year old man to handle. "Fuck.. it hurts so fucking much. H-how long was I out for? M-my.. fuck. My kids?"

 

He cradled his face with his hands, groaning loudly against the pillow. His eyes burned from the harsh lights and the warm stare the man was giving him. Fuck.. how did he know his name? He didn't like keeping IDs or anything like that on hand.. would've revealed who he was. "Inigo, yeah.. y'know.. like the guy that said, "You killed my father. Prepare to die!" Inigo guy?"

 

He didn't know if the joke made sense to anyone but him, but he still laughed, groaning at the dull aching feeling he got in his leg from it. "Anakin.. fuck. H-he stabbed me, the piece of shit."

 

"Yeah, I've heard your name before. Think it was from the jailor- said something about you working to protect the law in one way or another." The doctor looked up at him, pausing when he saw Inigo squirming against the sheets, pressing two fingers to his head. "Lie down. Stay still. Do you want some sunglasses? I know the lights are a little bright, especially if you've been out for a couple days." 

 

Reza didn't wait for a response, grabbing a pair from the side table and sliding them onto the man's face, poking his forehead with a finger, before relaxing their hand on it. "No fever now. That's good. I think you'll be fine- just need to wait for it to heal up." They gave a tiny smile, before turning over what the man had said in their mind. "Anakin... that's tattoos, right? Got them all over the place? Red hair?" They paused when the other man nodded. "So, what happened, then? Mafia? We can talk to the mayor, if you want- once you're feeling better and are decently rested."


	2. raptophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first revenge is carried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fucked up than there should be.

It was dark out. It was dark, and his skin was practically tingling, bristling with an emotion he wasn’t even certain was real as he stared at the vigilante, slipping into a back alley. And it was  _ painful-  _ he could still feel the cold metal of the gun in his mouth, Inigo’s breath on his face, practically tainting his skin with its filth… it was so fucking disgusting. And he’d tried to explain it- tried to tell Nanashi about it, and even Keon, and cried about it in the consigliere’s arms until some point in the night when the older man had slipped away and left him to ponder the experience on his own…

 

But it was all better now. It was all better, because this was his birthday- a little unknown fact to the rest of the mafia- and he had  _ needles.  _ Anakin wasn’t even sure there was a better way to celebrate turning thirty- he’d love to slide those long, sharp little devils underneath his abuser’s skin, would love to watch him squirm and make those little pained moans he’d grown to love hearing in some way or another.

 

The framer wasn’t sure when he’d gotten so sadistic; a side effect of the rape, he assumed, where the thoughts just echoed about in his head, rebounded off of the walls like a bad dream… and yet… he’d never had the thought to really… do anything about it. Yeah, he’d tried to act tough in front of the rest of the members, tried to make them think of him as little more than an emotionless dick, despite the fact he didn’t know a single thing about how to  _ really  _ hide his feelings. But around the vigilante… oh, he didn’t stutter. He didn’t try and hide. He  _ hated  _ that scumfuck with every  _ fiber  _ of his being.

 

Which is why it’s only a few minutes before he finds his arms wrapped around the older man’s neck, pulling him off the street and into a back alley, pressing a cloth over his face to try and muffle any noises he might’ve made. 

 

“Miss me?”

 

Alarms went off in his head, cursing too loudly for anyone in the immediate vicinity to not be able to hear him. Fuck- the little piece of shit was holding him in a tight headlock, cutting off any remote chances of him being able to breathe or scream further. Black patches had slowly began appearing in his vision, a burning sensation tingling in the back of his throat as he clawed desperately at the arm in an attempt for just a moment's worth of breath.

 

He could hear the continued crying of Elodie in the background, though it was too faint for anyone but him to hear unless they were trying to. Fuck- why tonight? He'd just gotten out of the clinic- this wasn't fair. 

 

Amidst the struggle, he felt a firm hand moving down the front of his pants and pulling them down. He didn't have any time to react before his senses slowly started to fail him, going completely cold as he knees briefly touched the cold concrete and he was able to see a faint smirk play on Anakin’s lips as he hunched over the man.

* * *

 

He almost didn’t want him to wake up- it was like the sudden weight of the situation had hit him, his head all but spinning the longer he looked at Inigo’s still body, crumpled on the ground beside him… it was almost… familiar. Almost… interesting. Anakin wasn’t sure why that was how he felt- wasn’t sure why all of this was suddenly so… intense. But then again, hadn’t it been the same for the vigilante? Having him at his mercy?

 

People did this. An eye for an eye… it was biblical, Anakin knew that. Still, it didn’t keep his fingers from curling around the older man’s, his hand sweaty against the other’s cold skin, as though it would somehow ease the tension in the air. It felt nice, the framer thought- in some twisted way, he almost… liked the feeling of Inigo’s skin. It was very nice skin, to be fair- no real blemishes… no tattoos either, sadly, but that was going to change soon. 

 

Yes, it would- very soon. He’d look so lovely with a tattoo… something small, maybe, on his forearm or collarbone. Something that Inigo would have to look at and be reminded of him by, something that would invade his thoughts like the needles pierced his skin… how interesting the thought was. A bit odd, perhaps… but not at all mundane. Not ordinary, like everything else- too perfect. He wanted Inigo to think of him- always think of him. 

 

Letting his fingers dance across the fifty-something year old’s bare chest, Anakin was surprised to see his eyes flickering open, looking up at him as though he wanted to say something. Upon the realization he couldn’t find his voice, the framer gave a tiny smirk, ruffling his black hair. “It’s a fast acting sedative, dear… how is it to find yourself at my mercy?” He practically purred the words, leaning forward until their faces were close, his breath mingling with the vigilante’s. “This is how I want you to remember me… as the man who beat you.”

 

_ You sick motherfucker- I've never been beat by you. You're playing dirty like the cowardly little bitch you know you are.. this is why you did it, because you know you'll never be able to overpower me otherwise. Fuck you- fuck you.  _ It's all he wants to scream, though is unable to make a sound other than a faint groan they almost hurts. His head was spinning, unable to take in anymore of what he was seeing. There was almost a faint whine close to escaping his lips, eyes close to closing shut. He blamed the drug.. there was no way he'd be able to fall asleep so quickly in any other situation. 

 

He briefly stared up at the man, lazily opening his eyes once more. Anakin didn't seem room react to this, happily humming as he stroked his chest passionately. He didn't like the way he continued to stare at it, shivering uncomfortably. What.. what was he going to do? There couldn't be much other than kill or harm him.. the boy didn't look like he could harm someone to the point of death either, thankfully. It only made him feel a lot worth about being so powerless in this situation. Whatever happened to him.. he didn't want to leave, not right now.

 

Inigo was shaking- that was the first thing the younger man noticed, fingers curling in dark locks, looking down at his face with an exaggerated frown. He looked so… out of it, eyes flitting about, glassy and clouded over, so dazed looking… Anakin’s fingers gently teased over his skin, giving an amused quirk of his lips. “What a poor man…” he said, mockingly, lips pursed. “Sight for sore eyes, almost… you should be happy I’ve taken a liking to you, Inigo.”  _ Even though you haven’t.  _

 

Anakin let the homemade tattoo gun slip out of his bag, setting it on the ground next to him. “Isn’t this nice? I thought you’d enjoy getting a tattoo… you know, since you seemed to like mine so much. I can still remember you asking me to tell you about them, feel your fingers tracing over my thigh… you should know better than to touch too intimately. Someone might get the wrong impression…”

 

The framer picked up the tattoo gun, setting the needle in place as he pressed it against his chest, awkwardly teasing the thin skin with the tip. “What do you think would look nice, Inigo? Me, I’ve always had an affinity for… patterns, beautiful things, the sea... for you, I think some hearts would look rather nice… maybe some vines? What about… our names, together? I think it’d be a nice little memory for you. Fitting.”

 

Inigo shivered painfully at the feeling of it teasing his bare skin. His heart was racing, almost whimpering at the thought of his perfect fucking skin ruined because some murderous fucking asshole decided to give him a tattoo. What the fuck would he tell his poor wife- she'd be just as upset as he was if she saw something like that on him.. she didn't even like the fact that he had so many piercings.

 

_ Fuck off- don't touch me. Just think about what you're doing.. I told them everything about you, bitch. Told them who you are, where you live..  _ everything.  _ You're going to die.. and quickly. Can't wait to see the look on the entire mafia’s face when a bitch ass punk like you is hanged in the middle of the square and left to die. It'll be worth all the pain and suffering I endured. _

 

There was so many words that he wanted to say, but was subsequently unable to speak or do much of anything because of the motherfucking drugs he had on his system still lingered. He looked back up the Anakin, uncomfortable with how amused the boy had begun to look as he idly traced his name over with the gun. Terror was the only emotion he could figure out he had, and that only made him feel a lot worse. This was really going to fucking hurt.

 

Anakin turned over the man’s arm, looking at his outstretched hand for perhaps too long, a slight smirk on his face. “This is your gun hand, correct? The left one?” He didn’t wait for Inigo to nod, before he’d pressed the tattoo gun over the inside of his forearm, teasing it. “Yes, I think so… I think it’s very fitting. Matching tattoos, for both of us. Of course, I already have so many… I was thinking an infinity symbol? Are you good with that? To preserve this moment for eternity?”

 

He let fingers drift over the man’s sharp chin, all too pleased with the silence. Inigo was loud, his voice annoying… he was so much better like this, forced to listen to him, spread out on his back with his skin bare, for anyone to find in the morning. “You must be so angry… don’t worry. I understand. I can hardly hold my own annoyance back most of the time… this is just another part of life, Inigo. Knowing when someone’s won against you…”

 

The framer pushed the needle against his thin skin, turning the tattoo gun on. “This might hurt a little, since it’s homemade- ink pen and all… y’know.” He didn’t pay any attention to the loud groan of agony that escaped the man’s lips as the needle pierced flesh, as he began to move it over the inside of his wrist, more and more until he could hear muffled screams echoing. “I like you, Inigo… I really do… you’re mine now, aren’t you?”

 

Tears were threatening to fall down the man’s face, unable to stop the groans of pain from escaping his cracked lips.  _ What the fuck kind of revenge was this _ ? It hurt so much.. but he didn't know why  _ this _ of all things was what he chosen. A fucking tiny little tattoo on his hand, he could always ignore it or just fucking cover it up.. if his plan was to just humiliate him into submission further. Fuck, he should've killed him when he had the chance. Trying to taunt him was a huge waste of his fucking time.

 

When the pain finally ended, another strong, relentless laugh escaped Anakin. He looked psychotic almost. Staring down at him with a twisted fucking smile. What he wouldn't do to teach the shit some manners. Anakin leaned down, breathing heavily as he locked his lips against his. He screamed the best he could, heart pounding faster than it's ever managed to go before, hands suddenly tangling into his clothes. 

 

_ What the fuck are you doing, you psychotic gay bitch? _

 

“You're so much better like this, aren't you? So much better when you're screaming and struggling to force me away… yes. Don't you see how much I enjoy your company? I mean… why else would I give you a matching tattoo…” as if to prove a point, the framer rolled up his sleeve, exposing the identical tattoo on his forearm with an almost grin. 

 

Then he was leaning forward and locking lips with the man again, pushing his tongue into his mouth, hands slipping down his chest until he could take hold of his cock, squeeze it hard between his fingers. “Do you feel bad about trying to kill me, Inigo? Do you want me? I think you do, now… I think you might even like me, given some time… yes. Tell me. Tell me that you like your tattoo- that you want more. That you want me to do them. That you want to know what I feel like. Say it.”

 

Inigo struggled with breathing now, unable to focus on anything but the tight pressure building in his cock from how tight Anakin was holding it. It hurt so fucking much, like he was going to end up bursting the thing open. Fuck- he didn't know if it was even considered healthy to just… just..  _ feel like this.  _ His hand stinging from the tattoo, lips burning from how disgusting the man tasted, cock pained from how harsh his grip was, and now he could feel Anakin slowly moving his lips down his neck, sucking aggressively on his collarbone, biting roughly almost. He could only imagine the amount of hickies he'd have because of his actions, how fucking ashamed he'll be when they’re shown to his family.

 

A moan escaped him, arching his hips forward the best he could as a familiar slap of pressure proceeded to empty itself all over the front of his stomach and thighs. He felt even worse about doing this- letting the boy know how fucking turned on he was right now, covered in cum and sweat. 

 

"Fa-" the words didn't seem to want to come out as nothing more than just weak moans. It felt too.. pathetic, something he's always hated. The second he was able to find his words again, he'd no problem letting himself bite the man's head off.

 

The moans were practically like music as they spilled from the vigilante's lips, only causing the younger man to tug on his hair roughly, almost wanting to crack a grin as he stared down at him. Inigo was groaning, writhing on the ground with a sticky trail of white on his thighs... it was almost attractive.

 

"Poor baby," Anakin teased, fingers tilting up his jaw, brushing over the underside of his chin with mock sympathy on his face. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly hit with an almost... urge. To... escalate this, make it go further so he could hear more of those delicious moans...

 

"You know, you aren't really my type... too aggressive. Too old, too, if I have to be honest. But you've still got something going for you, don't you?" The framer smiled, coldly, sliding his own tattered jeans off his thin hips, revealing the lack of underwear and half hard member underneath. Swinging a leg over Inigo's hips, he let the other man feel him- hips pushing against his, cock sliding against his thigh, ass pushing against his lower body.

 

"Don't worry, Inigo... it's not going to be that bad. Shh... it's okay. You don't have to speak... just let me do this. This one thing?" The older man’s expression is pure malice, mixed with a hint of fear. "I won't force you to take my cock... save that for next time. Wouldn't want to ruin our relationship, especially when you're so much bigger than me... don't fancy being snapped, really."

 

Inigo was completely sure that his body was frozen in fear by this point, letting the boy sink onto him, ride his hips too roughly for him to even be able to keep up anymore. Fighting the urge to keep quiet anymore was useless, curses and desperate moans just becoming word vomit at this point. He probably looked like a mess.. tears close to falling down his face, covered in fucking cum and other bodily liquids.. the shame of it all was just too obvious on his face. If anyone were to ever find out about this.. he'd die of fucking embarrassment. It sounded so immature and overly dramatic to say, like a teenage girl, but it was true.. so fucking true.

 

"Sto-" it was so close to being considered coherent, but failed in the end when he felt Anakin's sticky fingers wiping against his chapped lips. It was almost painful, the feeling of what he presumed to be a mixture of both of their cum sliding into his mouth with too much ease. Anakin's lips came crashing down a moment later, his thrusts slowly becoming manageable. This felt too sick.. the boy had actually fucking snapped. 

 

“Plea-”

 

"Shh..." the framer hushed him, pressing his lips back against the older man’s, red hair falling into his face as he chuckled against the other's chapped lips. He could feel how tense Inigo was, hips barely moving at all, hands weakly fumbling to grip something... cute. Anakin bit down on the man's lip, rutting against him even harder as he pushed himself further onto the vigilante's cock, head tilting back with a guttural moan.

 

"Fuck, man... fuck!" Anakin cursed, emptying himself across the man's abdomen,  eyes shutting quickly before he gave a sharp, almost psychotic laugh. "You're so pathetic, Inigo. That was just as boring as everything else... not a bit of fun for me... although I must say, you have hot cum. Feels too good, really." His eyes glinted, leaning over the man, mouth pressed to his ear. "I own you now, man. You're  _ mine _ ."

* * *

 

After the man had said that, it all felt like a blur, slowly blacking out and waking up unexpectedly during random moments. From feeling Anakin picking him up, to pain from the familiar feeling of a tattoo needle going against his sensitive skin.. being dragged for a moment before something hard hit the back of his head, and then.. he woke up here. Here was an obvious closet, pitch black and reeking of old dirty laundry. The feeling in his hands had finally came back, though only shortly before the leather straps around his wrists cut off circulation and they went numb. Same with his feet. 

 

For some reason, he was completely unable to draw any source of care or terror. He was tired, really.. really fucking tired. Tired of the fact that some murderer off his meds had managed to fuck him, giving each him a tattoo, and then drag him to what he presumed was his closet.. it felt like he had just lost and there was no coming back from this. How the fuck could he face his kids and his wife after this thing- much less explain..

 

The door opened, the light thankfully dimmed down to a preferable setting, revealing the young framer. He was still wearing that psychotic smile, dressed in a white towel. While he was certainty annoyed that he was the first person he saw after the ordeal, he was almost, to an extent, glad that it wasn't someone else.

 

"Asshole-"

 

He seemed so hostile- but then again, Anakin figures it's not really a surprise. Inigo's always hostile- really seemed to hate his guts. It was endearing, somehow- watching him struggle and hearing him sputter curses. Still, the framer barely gives him a smile, leaning down to his level and grabbing the rope binding his hands. "Don't fuss too much. It was hard enough to drag you here... too big for me to carry, honestly. Still, I'd almost say it's a pleasure... you being here with me. If you're nice and offer to give me a kiss, I might untie your feet. No marking, though- Nanashi would get upset."

 

He offers a taunting smile, ruffling the man's greying black hair with long fingers, slipping a hand under his chin to match their eyes together. "What a sad sight you are..." he offers a frown that probably comes off as more amused, brushing a tear away from the vigilante's cheek softly. "I love you, Inigo. Don't look at me like that- it hurts me, really."

 

"Where.." he hesitated to speak, biting his lip before saying, "Where the fuck am I? It smells like fucking shit in here."

 

And it did, it really did so fucking much that it made him want to vomit. Though he really wasn't if it was because of how close Anakin was to him, completely wet, and it helped made him feel disgusting, or if it was because he was still able to smell the aftermath of their sex on his skin, crusting and dripping off his skin onto the dirty carpeting below. It didn't help that he could clearly make out the smell of expired food products somewhere close. He hugged his knees closer at the feeling of Anakin stroking the top of his head.

 

It felt so inappropriate with him being this close to him.. almost enough to make him want to scream out for help.. and he would, he really would if he didn't already have the sinking suspicion that he was surrounded by mafia members that would gladly let this monster tear further into his skin. He was fucked here.. fuck, he just kept getting hit left and right..

 

He looked down at his hands, blinking slowly as the crusted liquids on it. "I want to shower. Take me to one, now."

 

"Yeah... sure. I have a shower you can use. But like I said, you don't get anything without payment..." the framer gave a tiny chuckle at the older man’s sneer, almost tempted to frown. Still, he shrugs, leaning forward to peck Inigo's lips, before tugging loose the ropes on his ankles. "I can't carry you... but I can hurt you if you try and move." The last part was punctuated by a small smile, attempting to pull the vigilante to his feet. "Stand up- be quiet. Nanashi's going to be so upset if he sees you with me."

 

Throwing open the door, Anakin glanced into the hallway, eyes wide. Dragging Inigo over to the tiny room across the hall by the ropes on his hands, he quickly shoved the man into the room before locking the door. 

 

"Okay. Just... shower. Or whatever. I'll watch you from over here."

 

Inigo was tempted to fight back- he really didn't want to let the man watch him while he showered, but.. he really wanted to get rid of the feeling of cum dripping down his legs. Hesitantly, he moved forward to step into the shower send let the cold water run down his back without a care. It felt too nice- even if the pressure was low and freezing. It cleaned off the liquids he was covered in and he was okay with this. 

 

"Clothes?" He turned to look at the man, awkwardly trying to clean his hair with his hands. It was a futile attempt, but he frankly didn't a single shit at this point anymore. Anakin only looked at him, a playful smiling returning to his face as he eyed his lower regions closer. Approaching him, Inigo flinched and whispered, "I want something.."

 

"I can give you something..." the younger man started, trailing off with an almost devious grin as he leaned back against the wall just slightly, eyes focusing on the man's rather large cock. To be fair, he hadn't really expected the man to be so large- the egotistical ones never really are, something he'd learned from Jaina, but the framer would've been lying if he said the sight didn't turn him on at least a little bit. "Inigo, will you do something for me? You're a good boy, right? I don't think I can deny you anything if you're good... hm..."

 

Running a hand through his own messy red hair, Anakin raised his pierced eyebrow, giving a barely amused smirk as he pointedly let his eyes drift from the vigilante's genitals up to his face. "Jerk off for me? I did it for you... this is common courtesy, friend." When the older gives him a blank stare, he only tilts his head to the side, glancing over to the tiny mirror with a frown. "Well? Go on. Or you can come fuck me, if you'd rather... no? Well, it's settled then. Go on. Wrap those thick fingers of yours around that pretty red tip and masturbate for me."

 

Inigo blushed red, ears burning. "W-why the fuck would I..." he cupped his cock the best he could, leaning against the hard shower wall. "Letting me use your shower after you forced me to become dirty and disgusting isn't a favour.. you can't ask someone this, you freak."

 

"I'm glad to know you feel that way," Anakin said sharply, trailing off with a frown. "Shame, too..." he wasn't exactly keen on telling Inigo why it was such a shame- what exactly he was thinking at the current moment, the shaking of his thighs almost too intense as he tried to cover up just what exactly he was feeling. Instead, he just nodded, tossing the man a shirt and a pair of sweatpants he wasn't even sure would fit him. "Alright, get dressed... I want to at least enjoy this before you're inevitably discarded by the rest of the mafia."

 

_ He probably doesn't even cuddle with his wife, _ the framer thought. No, Inigo seemed like the type who just outright hated affection- he probably wouldn't let the thirty year old curl up against his side without some sort of fuss or resistance... maybe if he was tied down? Maybe...

 

"Hurry up, kay? I-I have something I want to do with you."

 

"I just got in here," he shouted back, facing away from the man so that he could feel the harsh water pressure before sighing. His hair still felt greasy and gross, but he guessed it was no use fighting with the boy even worse. He was tired and wanted to be able to properly rest before anymore of this bullshit went on. Maybe he could convince the man to let him go. Just let his hands get cut free and he could choke the boy out so the procedure could go by quickly.

 

"I'm tired," he noted, gently slipping on the sweats that very obviously did not fit him at all. He looked like an suffocating marshmallow in the white sweats, barely able to move from how tight they were. "I want to see my wife and my children- are you listening to me?"

 

If he were any other person, Anakin would’ve laughed at the rather hideous appearance of the sweats that were clinging to the man’s legs, too tight to be considered appropriate in any way… still, it wasn’t like he could do any better. Fuck if he was telling anyone else about Inigo being here- he wasn’t supposed to be, none of this was supposed to be happening…

 

“Of course I’m listening to you.” The framer responded sourly, scowling. “I’ve been listening to you ever since you pulled me into that alley and forced me to strip… you know that, right?” When Inigo didn’t reply, he just sighed, turning away from him for the briefest of moments. “As much as I’d love to return you to that cute little family of yours… I’d rather you stay with me, for the time being. Don’t worry- you can sleep, rest up, and I promise I won’t do anything that could hurt you. I just… I just want…”

 

He couldn’t force the words out.

 

Still, it didn’t keep him from grabbing the man’s hands and tugging him back across the hallway, until he could slip back into the dark room with its black walls and black furnishings, pulling back the surprisingly purple blanket on his somewhat small bed before pushing the older man a little. “You should sit. Please… I just want…”

 

Inigo stayed quiet, letting himself sink into the sheets. The air in the room had only grown more and more unbearable the longer the younger boy stared down at him with wandering eyes. He was almost uncertain if he should keep talking to the man or not- everything he's asked or said has resulted in something sexual or being shot down. His request to fucking call his family was even shot down. He doubted anything else he'd ask would be granted. 

 

Anakin moved towards him again, holding out the leather straps that bound his feet. Great. He was going to be tied up again. "Get the fuck away from me with that thing," he hissed, sitting up more on the bed so that he was leaning on the pillows. "I ain't gonna run."

 

"You sure about that?" Anakin questioned, skeptically, but gave a slight sign when the older man only scowled again, giving up and sitting down on the edge of the bed, briefly glancing to Inigo. He didn't know why he was so nervous- almost... childishly nervous of Inigo trying to kick him away.  _ Of course, he would, _ the framer assumed.  _ I've only destroyed his pride. Kidnapped him. Tied him up. Forced him to have sex with me. _

 

"I don't want you to run." His voice was light as he lay down on his side, facing the older man, hand teasing his cheek. "I want you to stay here with me." Pulling himself closer to the vigilante, he barely rested his form against the man's side, breathing unsteady.

 

Hissing, the salt and pepper haired man tried his best to move around away from the ginger. He was so fucking tired of being touched by this piece of shit, tired of being considered as just some fucking toy for them to molest and play with. It was disgusting.. the boy pretending it. "Don't you ever fucking touch me-"

 

Before he could spit out the rest, Anakin's lips crashed on his, effectively silencing him. His tongue violently moved across the front of the teeth, hands curling around in his hair. For what seemed to be the hundredth, he could feel Anakin moving kisses down his neck. He wanted to throw up again, swallowing the bile in his throat. Anakin's legs curled around him, resting his head on his collarbone. From how heavy he was breathing, heart beating quickly, he was unable to hear whatever the fuck the man was saying in his clothes.

 

He briefly wondered if it would be possible to choke the ever living shit out  the man.

 

He seemed so tense, rigid, wanting to struggle underneath Anakin's grip. It almost made the framer want to frown, trying to keep a grip on the older man despite the curses leaving Inigo's mouth. His legs tangled around the other's, head resting on his chest, able to barely hear the harsh beat of his heart under his skin. He wasn't sure why he was doing any of this... maybe loneliness. He didn't want Inigo to leave him for god knows what reason.

 

"Don't fucking struggle," the redhead said, pushing his lips against the man's as he tried to speak again. "I just want you for awhile longer... then you can go back to your family... fuck. Got it? I..." running a tattooed hand through his hair, he let his fingers settle on Inigo's neck, frowning. "I want you."

* * *

  
  


Nanashi quickly moved down the hallways, shuffling then wine bottle and present underneath his armpits. He almost a day too late to wish the boy a happy introduction to his thirties, but he still had about an hour left before he was late, he doubted that Anakin would mind.. they were both busy today, and Nanashi still at least brought something for the two of them.

 

Finding the door, he knocked briskly, calling his name out before attempting to turn the handle on the door. Locked. Fuck. Wondering briefly if the boy had already to sleep, or if he was mad at him for not showing up earlier. That thought process was ripped right out when he heard the sound of something hard hitting the wall and muffled cursing. Immediately, he dropped the items he had in his hand and began digging through his pockets for a key. It was a spare key- one that Anakin had given him some time back for emergency cases, and right now, he thought this is what he'd consider an emergency.

 

Unlocking the door, he almost instinctively grabbed the nearest person he found- a large, overweight man with his bound hands wrapped around Anakin's thin throat. Cursing he threw the man off the best he could, almost growing protectively as he stood over the man, his face red, covered in hickies, and tearful.

 

Turning to Anakin, he hissed, "What.. who the fuck is he?"

 

"He- he's... I... he's the vigilante, Nanashi! He tried to fucking kill me- so... so I... you know? I was upset." Anakin doesn't think he's even making sense, crying as he all but threw himself into the consigliere's arms, pleased at the warmth he provided. "Nanashi, please... don't tell anyone else. I was waiting till the meeting. I'm... don't say anything to Keon. Fuck- I... I can't."

 

The framer isn't even sure it makes sense, pursing his lips and looking down at the dark haired man, quickly pressing a kiss to his lips. "Please, Nan... don't look at me like that. It's not that bad."

 

"Not.. not that bad??" Nanashi asked confounded, wrapping his hands around  Anakin's light shoulders. "You brought a man with access to a fucking gun to our hideout, Ana.. do you really not understand how fucking serious this is? What Carmine- Julian is going to do? What the fuck did you do?"

 

He sighed deeply, curing in his head. He looked down at the man, eyeing the hickies shown clearly on his neck. "Ana.. did you fuck him?"

 

"I... you think... fuck! I-I didn't mean to, Nan. I... I just wanted to get back at him... I was so annoyed, man. And I knocked him out before I brought him here! He doesn't- Julian doesn't have to know. You can help me..." the framer's thin, bony hands tangled in Nanashi's shirt, pulling him closer. "I love you, Nanashi. It's really- it sounds worse than it is."

 

All it seems to prompt is another harsh question of "Did you fuck him?" Anakin's eyes going wide when the consigliere pushed him away, looking angry enough to kill something.

 

"I... I... yes, okay? I... it's been really difficult lately. After what happened… all I want is sex anymore. You and Keon are always gone, and I just... I needed it. I... I won't do it again, Nanashi... just... just don't leave me." He reached out for the man again, a few stray tears rolling over his cheeks that were more than likely fake. "Babe..."

 

He was practically shaking with anger, grabbing the boy's collar and pinning him against the wall. Anakin looked at him terrified, continuing to give out weak apologies, flinching at how close the man was getting to him. 

 

He was beyond fucking pissed. Anakin was the last person he'd ever suspect would cheat on him..  He didn't give a rat's ass about Keon. He knew that he was infatuated with the man, so he let it slide when the boy told him he finally managed to fuck the man. Still.. learning that he was fucking someone old enough to be his father made him want to curse worse.

 

He leaned in closer to him, almost able to smell the fear on Anakin. "You're mine, Ana. Every square inch of you is mine.. whenever you're fucking horny and wanna fuck someone else, you have to ask fucking permission to do it... fuck- you're not allowed to ever fucking cheat on me."

 

Close to biting his shoulder, Nanashi grabbed his face, too harsh and violent so it wasn't a surprise when Anakin gave a startled cry, tears pouring down his face. "Do you fucking understand me?" 

 

Anakin was quiet, minding terrified sniffles and whimpering.

 

His open hand connected with Anakin's cheek, striking it harshly. "Do you fucking understand me?"

 

He wanted to scream- it was too much all at once, being pushed up the wall, Nanashi pushing closer to him, breath in his face making him want to flinch. Anakin wasn't even sure he could form any words, his blood practically running cold, hands shaking as he tried to slide one up to the consigliere's neck.

 

And then there was a stinging pain in his cheek and his knees were going weak, practically wanting to fall over despite the anger coursing through his body, barely able to meet Nanashi's eyes. The framer clung to his shirt, fingers clenched in the fabric, trying to force out something- anything. "Yes. I-I understand, Nanashi. I... I'm yours. I... please? Can you... I want..."

 

Licking his lips, the redhead leaned back, looking to the side as he tried to find the words to make him understand. He was half-hard from being fucking yelled at, Nanashi holding him against the wall... it was all too fucking much. He needed... needed Nanashi to touch him, just... help him out.

 

"Nan, please... I want you to... f-fuck... get me off. I want- look at me... more. Please. I need you. Fuck- anything."

 

Nanashi slapped him again, gently this time as he slowly backed away from the man. An amused smirk on his face on his face, licking his lips. He could see his erection tenting against his baggy sweats, the pressure building on his face as he lightly rutting his hips against his. "You just confessed to cheating on me, Ana.. and now you want me to jack you off.." he rolled his eyes at the slow nod he got from the man, leaning in to press a cold and uninviting, but satisfactory kiss. Pulling back, he turned his back to the man. "You're on your own, Anakin. Have a nice fucking birthday, asshole."

 

Inigo watched dumbfounded, scouting back from the man when he came close to him. He had no idea what the fuck he was watching, it didn't seem actually real. Like a fucking dream from a shitty soap opera. When the raven haired man finally shut the door, Inigo snipped casually, "Great fucking job, socio. Can't even convince your little fuck toy to stay with you."

  
  


"Don't call him that," came the immediate reply, cold and callous, before there was a hand sliding into Inigo's hair, pulling his head up roughly, staring down at him with an icy smile. "Nanashi is my boyfriend. And he's right- I shouldn't have fucked you. But you sure as hell don't have a right to say anything like that about him. No... no, you don't deserve to."

 

And with that, Anakin pushed his lips against the older man's again, sealing them harshly, forcing his tongue into the vigilante's mouth and letting it trace over the inside of tooth and cheek, hand almost wrapped around his neck, far too weak to give any meaningful grip. Pulling back with an annoyed scowl on his face, the framer shoved Inigo further against the wall, knee catching the underside of his jaw. "I want you to get me off. Do it, or I swear to god that you will not like the punishment I have in mind. And maybe after that I'll have you mark me a bit so Nanashi gets jealous... you know, he really can't leave me alone for long. But he's the only thing I care about... I'd kill you if it made him happy, you know."

 

Inigo stared at him for a moment, eyes watering before whispering out a, “Fuck you. You already got turned down by your little boyfriend, don't come to me in desperation, you filthy little slut.”

 

Before he could protest any longer, Anakin was forcing his jaw open, pants falling down to his ankles as he forcibly stuck his cock into his mouth. It took a minute before Inigo knew what to do, the taste of salty precum appearing on the back of his tongue, shocked at how quickly Anakin’s hips were thrusting, knocking the back of his head against the wall. Hands were already tangled in his hair, pulling too hard for Inigo to not let disgusted moans leave his lips. This fucking hurt- it was disgusting-  _ what the fuck.. _ He bit down.

 

“ _ Fuck!”  _ was all the framer managed to get out, his eyes wide and burning with anger. Reaching down, his hand caught the side of Inigo's face, fingers curling in dark-grey hair and pulling sharply. Tugging the man's head up, Anakin barely managed to look at him before he was shoving him back against the wall again, kicking him in the ribs.

 

“Don't you fucking  _ dare,  _ Inigo. I could tear off your goddamn dick if you do anything like that again.” his eyes narrowed, dark and piercing. “And I'm _ not  _ a slut. Watch your mouth.” Pulling away from the vigilante, Anakin gave a slight laugh- hollow and callous, broken down with insanity. “This is your fault. Your fault Nanashi got mad at me. Your fault I'm losing it…” he paused, crouching down next to the man. “Mark me. You should be good at it since you like biting so fucking much.”

 

“G-get the fuck away from me,” he hissed, closing his eyes so that he could imagine that he was anyplace but here. Thoughts of being with his wife and kids ran through his mind.. but those thoughts thankfully vanished as soon as they came, being replaced by him being thanked by the mayor and everyone else in that useless god damn town. They were quickly stolen away- the euphoria he felt, sense of accomplishment he grew to know and love so quickly- Anakin slapping at his face, forcing him to look at his ugly mug once more. “No- I fucking won't do it.”

 

He didn't seem to really get a say in the matter with Anakin forcing him to lay face first in the bed, his ribs aching badly from the abuse. Inigo didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold out on- practically everyone else basically kissing his ass because he successfully killed the entire mafia all by himself. All he had to do was survive and his wish could come true. “You.. you might as well release me now, asshole.. kill me if you want. I'll never fucking stoop so low as to touch you voluntarily.”

 

"Such a shame," the framer hummed, turning away again and back to the dresser, rummaging through drawers until he could find something suitable- ties for his mouth, of course, since the moron couldn't stop speaking. "You know, if you did, it might've saved you some of this." He sat at Inigo's side, hand around his neck slightly, pressing in enough to hurt. 

 

Then he was spreading the man's legs with an awful smirk on his face, sliding his fingers against the older man's ass teasingly. Pushing one in, barely lubed, he watched as the expression on the man's face turned to disgust, trying to pull himself away as another long, thin digit breached him. Anakin's thumb rubbed against his rim, a dark smile on his face as he held up the vibrating plug in his hand. "You're so tight... think you can take it? This is one of my favorites. Don't worry- it won't hurt as much as you think... or maybe it will. Can't wait to hear you cursing in pain and pleasure..."

 

Inigo opened his mouth in horror, staring at the dark pink thing being moved around his back to press against his rim. How.. how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside him/ It couldn't.. it was impossible for something that big and girthy.. even bigger than he was. Even if Anakin put the entire bottle of lube in his ass, it couldn't actually fit.. "Pl-" as soon as it touched his sensitive skin, he couldn't help the moan escaping his lips, practically shivering in fear. It was even thicker than he thought, almost pulsing at the touch. He was too scared for what could possibly happen.. he didn't want to die by some object in his ass.

 

"G-get it out.. hurts.'

 

"Aw, don't be that way..." Anakin started, stroking back Inigo's hair as he flipped the switch. The man tensed up almost immediately, crying out in pain, eyes flying open with a shout. It was cute, really, no matter how unattractive the man was. Anakin almost smiled, looking down at him. 

 

"If I can take it, you can," he said without emotion, pressing a kiss to the man's forehead, stroking his thick cock quickly. "Don't like it? Would you prefer I rode you again? Of course, you don't want me to touch you..." he shoved the plug in a little further, groaning. "I do really want to get off though..."

 

"F-fuck," Inigo panted, feeling his legs further spreaded forward to buck into Anakin's hands. He felt like he was being torn apart in his ass, somewhat pleasant feeling if it wasn't for the fact that hurt like a fucking bitch. His cock was oddly enough rock hard, pulsing in his hand, desperate for me. This.. this shouldn't be happening. Shouldn't be turned on at all.. This was all disgusting. Wrong. Liking this wasn't good. "Off- get.."

 

And then he could feel the pink thing emptying out inside him, fake pleasure leaking out of his asshole and down his thighs. Fuck- d-did.. did it actually just..? "W-what the fuck-" he cried, biting down on his lip as another spasm went through his back and the toy stretched out enough once more to empty. "W-what the fuck is this.. wh-why is this..?'

 

"Don't you like it?" Anakin questioned mockingly, ruffling Inigo's hair with a dark look on his face, hand smoothing over the man's thighs, gripping his cock and letting his fingers trail up and down the shaft before giving a rough tug. The older man’s release was sticky, coming out in streaks of white against the framers hand, back arching one more as Anakin reached between his legs to slip the toy out, giving a half smile.

 

"Did you like that, baby?" He muttered, hand tracing the vigilante's cheekbones,  his jaw, eyes glinting as he leaned forward to grip his neck, pressing his lips against the man's cheek, then his ear. "You're practically irresistible like this..."

 

The ginger moved to sit in the elder's lap, pressing soft kisses against the skin of his neck and pressing incredibly close to his body. "You're amusing, Inigo. Maybe I'll keep you around awhile longer... it feels so nice to be in control. I'm just a bitch to everyone else.  Funny that it's you who ended up beneath me."

 

Inigo refused to answer.. not that he really could though. His body was practically shut down now, slicked with come from both sides. This was humiliating, utterly fucking humiliating.. Forcing out words, he could feel shameful tears leaking out. "Fuckin' sadist.. you disgust me.. I-I should've just cocked my gun in your mouth and killed you. A-at least then.."

 

He doesn't finish, unable to continue as he slowly sinks into the corner exhausted. Weakness had managed to just completely ruin him.. he doubted that he'd ever be able to bring his dignity back up to where it was previously. And if he couldn't.. he'd rather Anakin just blew a round of bullets into his fucking skull and saved him the trouble.

 

"Hey, hey..." Anakin's hand caressed the man's cheek, bony fingers forcing their eyes together as he offered a light smile. "Don't be upset, Inigo.  I love you, okay? I'm not doing this to be cruel... I'm doing it because you deserve to be punished. And you know it, deep down."

 

The framer pressed his lips against the other's, sliding his tongue into a hot mouth, practically devouring it as his hands slid over the vigilante's thighs. Pulling back, he brushed a stray lock of hair from the man's face. "Shh... it's all okay now." Curling up on his side, he pressed his head against Inigo's chest, making a fake purring noise. "Don't leave me yet..."

 

Inigo continued to leave his eyes closed,  trying to control his ragged breathing. This was all happening way too fast for him- completely undisciplined and perverted in everyway.. it was almost scary having this happen to him. 

 


End file.
